


in the ice, hope still lingers

by Zilentdreamer



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alchera (Mass Effect), Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilentdreamer/pseuds/Zilentdreamer
Summary: When she was younger she used to read stories about what Earth was like before space travel. Back when the only ships humanity knew were the ones that sailed on the ocean and seas of Earth, there was a saying that the captain always goes down with the ship. No matter what Cerberus thought they had succeeded in doing, the truth was she had died with her ship.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	in the ice, hope still lingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bioluminesce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioluminesce/gifts).



When Shepard receives the request to go to Alchera she stares at the text for several minutes. Her first reaction is surprise and a kind of resigned irritation that gradually shifts into something caught on the edges of anger and grief. It is worded as an honor, as if the Alliance considers this a favor they are extending on her behalf. As if being the first to set foot on the crash site and to see the scattered remnants of her ship is something she should want. 

Instead it feels like a rebuke. She is alive when her faithful Normandy and part of her crew are not. No matter that she originally shared their fate; that she cannot forget the sight of Alchera looming beneath her as its gravity snared her into a deadly fall even as the chill of space stole what little air she had left. 

Shepard will always serve the Alliance with what honor she can cling to in the face of the looming war, but that doesn’t mean she can’t acknowledge that sometimes they are assholes. With the memories of her death flickering behind her eyes and the ever present guilt weighing on her, she closes the email. 

She’ll deal with it when she is ready.

* * *

Then Shepard sacrifices a solar system for the mere chance that it will buy time against the Reapers and wonders if something vital had broken up with her ship when it fell to Alchera.

She thinks that going back will be the only way to know for sure. 

* * *

“You don’t have to do this by yourself.”

Shepard turns away from where the shuttle is being prepared for her trip down to Alchera. She takes in the way Garrus is standing at attention just outside her personal space, almost vibrating with concern. She doesn’t try to reassure him with a smile, it would only be a lie and an obvious one at that. 

She sighs. “I know, but I think it’s for the best if I do this by myself.” 

It had occurred to her to bring someone with her but the immediate revulsion at the mere idea had been an answer in of itself. She didn’t want anyone there to see the shattered remains of her first ship, where the person she used to be was burned away. Especially not someone who knew her before she died. 

Garrus didn’t try to argue with her although she could see him physically restrain the impulse in the way his mandibles are clamped tight to his face, the equivalent to a human clenching their teeth. Normally she would try to comfort him but her decision to destroy the Alpha Relay has left her feeling hollow. 

He must see something in her expression since he offers her a curt nod. “I understand, Commander. I’ll be waiting for you to get back.”

Shepard tries to find something to say in response and settles on a nod in return. She feels his eyes on her back as she heads for the shuttle and chalks it up as one more failure in an ever growing list.

* * *

In the first few seconds after she steps out of the shuttle, Shepard is struck by the visceral memory of her last moments. The shock of cold through her space suit and the heavy silence broken only by the sound of her breathing sends panic twisting through her gut and it’s only the lack of agonizing pain that lets her keep her wits about her. Shepard puts one hand against the side of the shuttle and takes a deep breath, holds it, and then releases. She repeats the process over and over until the panic slowly ebbs. 

With one hand still resting on the chilled metal of the shuttle, Shepard looks around at the resting place of her beloved Normandy and her heart aches. It should be impossible that the pieces landed so close together rather than being pulled further apart by their rapid entry into the planet’s atmosphere. 

Once she feels steady enough she steps away from the shuttle and walks the final resting place of her ship, and of the Shepard she used to be. Shepard has seen death come in many forms, has stepped over the fallen with their bodies twisted and broken, empty eyes staring into nothing with lingering echoes of fear and pain etched into frozen faces. So many times she has arrived too late or not at all and found only death waiting. 

Walking between the broken pieces of her ship, Shepard can feel death lingering in the crushing cold. It lurks in the tangled wires and the shattered steel sticking up out of the ice like the bones of a corpse. There is no blood or shredded organs to scent the air with death, but Shepard feels it all the same. She can still hear the wail of the alarms as the Collector’s beam sliced through the Normandy, the shriek of shredded steel and how the ship bucked and shivered beneath her feet. 

Shepard walks from one piece to another, accompanied only by the crunch of her boots over the ice and the rasp of her own breath. She gathers the dog tags up in one hand when she finds them, pulling them out of the ice with gentle tugs. It’s not enough but this she can do, making sure that those she lost make it home to their families.

She’s trying to decide where to put the monument when she sees it. Her heart starts pounding in her chest when she sees her old helmet stuck in the ice and she sucks in a ragged breath. Moving slowly she crunches across the ice until she stands over what was only a slag of metal that barely held the shape of a helmet. The fall into the atmosphere must have warped it, and Shepard immediately shies away from the thought of what her body must have looked like at the end. 

Miranda hasn’t spoken in detail of the project that brought Shepard back, and Shepard didn’t actually want to know how little they had to start with. Considering how she had died, it most likely hadn’t been much. 

Leaning down she yanks the helmet out of the ice with none of the reverence she’d used for the dog tags. Holding the slagged remains of her helmet she feels the pervasive numbness of the past week collapse beneath a surge of fury and grief so strong it leaves her gasping once again. She remembers falling and the pain as her body began to burn, how it felt to gasp for air and not having the breath to cry. 

When she was younger she used to read stories about what Earth was like before space travel. Back when the only ships humanity knew were the ones that sailed on the ocean and seas of Earth, there was a saying that the captain always goes down with the ship. No matter what Cerberus thought they had succeeded in doing, the truth was she had died with her ship. 

The woman she used to be had tried to save Saren even if he was her enemy. The woman she was now was willing to murder an entire solar system of people to buy time for an impossible war. 

Carrying the helmet in one hand and the dog tags in the other, Shepard trudges across the ice to where the broken shell of the cockpit lay resting. She goes as far back as she can until she finds the control panel where only one of the seats remains intact. Shepard stares at the broken helmet before leaning over and placing the helmet on the seat. 

She feels a sense of peace at knowing the helmet is within the remains of the Normandy, as if some small part of her will remain with the ship. 

Leaving the cockpit, Shepard circles the site several times before she settles on the location for the monument. She marks out a spot in front of the only intact piece of the hull, where the letters of the Normandy’s name are still perfect. She reaches out and smoothes her gloved hand over the metal. She can feel the chill of it even through her armor. 

“The Reapers thought they could use the Collector’s to kill me, and they succeeded. The Shepard that killed Saren and stopped Sovereign is dead now. But I’m a new Shepard, and I will do whatever it takes to stop the Reapers.” Leaning forward she rests her helmet against the hull. “You can rest now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Shepard turns around and looks out over the remains of the first Normandy. She takes it all in, the broken remnants of her first ship and the person she used to be. Neither of them had been able to withstand the Collectors or their masters, the Reapers. She only hopes that the person she is now and the new Normandy will be able to succeed where their predecessors failed. 


End file.
